"THERE is a Chinese proverb to the effect that "when swords are rusty and spades bright, when prisons are empty and granaries full, when temple-steps are worn by the footprints of the faithful, and courts of justice are overgrown with grass, when doctors go on foot, and bakers on horseback, then the Empire is justly governed." However true the proverb may ordinarily be, to no country in the world is it less applicable than to China, for there, on the contrary, swords are bright, while spades are rusty, the prisons are full to overflowing, while the granaries are empty, bakers rather than doctors starve, and though the pagodas may attract the believers, the halls of justice never lack their train of criminals.

An empire which extends over an area of 1,300,000 square miles, which is more than 1,400 miles in length, and varies from 900 to 1,300 miles in breadth, and which contains eighteen vast provinces, exclusive of the dependent territories of Mongolia, Manchuria, Thibet, Tonquin, Corea, and the Loo-Choo Islands, can scarcely fail to have a very imperfect administration. The fact is quite evident to foreigners, and the Chinese themselves are beginning to have more than a suspicion of its truth. The emperor alone, "the son of heaven," the father of his people, who rarely emerges from the august seclusion of his palace, whose word is law, whose power over life and death is absolute, to whom the imperial revenues are due by right of birth, and before whom all foreheads are bowed low to the dust-he, indeed, may believe that he rules over the happiest of lands, and any attempt to undeceive him would be utterly vain ; a " child of the skies " must be infallible, and can make no mistake.

It would seem, however, that Kin-Fo had come to the conclusion that it was preferable to live under European rather than Chinese authority; he had chosen to reside not in Shang-Hai itself, but in the portion of land that had been assigned to the English, and in which they maintained an independent autonomy.

Shang-Hai proper is situated on the left-hand bank of the little Wang-Poo River, which, meeting the Woosung at right-angles, joins the Yang-tse-Kiang, or Blue River, and ultimately flows into the Yellow Sea. The town is oval in shape, lying north and south, enclosed by high walls, through which five outlets lead to the suburbs. The narrow dirty streets are little better than paved lanes; the dingy shops, without fronts or stocks to attract, are served by shopmen often naked to their waists; not a carriage nor palanquin, and very rarely even a horseman, passes by here and there are scattered a few native temples and chapels belonging to foreigners; the only places of recreation are a " tea-garden," and a swampy parade-ground, the dampness of which is accounted for by its being on the site of former rice-fields. Such are the chief points of a town, which, undesirable as it may seem as a place of residence, yet numbers a population of 200,000, and is of considerable commercial importance.

It was, in fact, the first town, after the treaty of Nanking, that was thrown open to European traffic, and in which foreigners were permitted to form establishments. Outside the town and suburbs, three portions of territory have been granted, subject to an annual rent, to the French, English, and Americans, who have settled there to the number at about two thousand.

Of the French grant of land, or "concession," as being of the least importance, there is little to be said. It lies almost entirely to the north of the town, and extends as far as the small river Yong-King-Pang, which separates it from the English allotment. It contains the churches of the Lazarists and Jesuits, in connexion with which four miles from the town is the College of Tsikave, where "ti-paos," or local police, and "compradores," agents for transacting the negotiations with European merchants.

The two friends sauntered leisurely along the quay. Kin-Fo, fan in hand, in careless indifference, hardly cast a look at the noisy multitude that thronged around. For him, owner as he was of a fortune that would go some way towards buying a good slice of the whole suburbs, the chink of the Mexican piastres, silver taels, and copper sapecks, in their active circulation was a sound that excited no personal interest. Wang had opened his huge yellow umbrella decorated with figures of black monsters, and walked along, suffering very little to escape the keen eye of his observation. As they passed the East Gate, he caught sight of about a dozen bamboo-cages which contained the heads of a lot of criminals who had been executed the day before.

"Better have filled those fellows' heads with knowledge than cut them off," he muttered to himself.

Kin-Fo did not happen to hear the remark, otherwise he might have felt considerable surprise at such a sentiment uttered by one who formerly had been a Tai-Ping.

Leaving the quay, and passing round the walls, they came close upon the French allotment, and had their attention directed to a man dressed in a long blue robe, who was trying to attract a crowd by beating a hollow buffalo's horn with a stick.

"Ah, look!" cried Wang, "here is a sien-Cheng!"

"Well," said Kin-Fo; "what of that?"

"Oh! it's just the time; you are going to be married; he must tell your fortune!" replied the philosopher.

Kin-Fo had no wish for his fortune to be told, and was conscious of his reluctance; nevertheless, at Wang's suggestion he came to a standstill.

A "sien-Clieng" is a recognized itinerant fortune-teller, who for a few sapecks is ready to reveal all the secrets of the future. His professional appliances are nothing more than a pack of sixty-four cards, and a small bird in a cage which he carries attached to his button-hole: the cards are painted with pictures of gods, men, and beasts. The Chinese generally are very superstitious, but they are particularly prone to respect the prognostications of a sien-Cheng.

At a sign from Wang, the man spread a calico sheet upon the ground, and deposited his bird-cage upon it. He then produced his pack of cards, shuffled them, and dealt them out face downwards upon the sheet. Opening the door of the cage, he retired for the bird to come out. The bird hopped out, picked up a card, and hopped back again. It was rewarded with a grain or two of rice. The card was turned up. It was a picture of a man, and a motto was written under the picture in "kunan-runa," the official language of the north, which is understood by none except the educated classes. The sien-Cheng took up the card, and formally exhibiting it, began to tell the identical story which is delivered by fortune-tellers all over the world - there should be first one grievous difficulty, and afterwards bliss for ten thousand years.

"Not so bad!" blandly observed Kin-Fo; "one difficulty is not much;" and he flung a tael on the white sheet. The fortune-teller clutched at the silver piece as a hungry dog would clutch at a bone; it was rarely that a guerdon so good fell to his lot.

They recommenced their way, and approached the French colony; the tutor pondering how remarkably the oracle they had just consulted coincided with his own theories, the young man nursing the conviction that no serious difficulty was likely to befall him. They passed the French consulate, crossed the narrow bridge over the Yang-King-Pang, and, entering the British quarter, kept on their way until they reached the chief European quay.

By this time the midday hour had struck, at which a Chinaman's commercial day comes to a close. Quickly the stir of business began to lull, and, as if by magic, the bustle of the English settlement subsided into a still and noiseless calm.

Several ships had just entered the port, the majority of them carrying the British flag. A proportion of nine out of ten of them were probably freighted with opium, that powerful narcotic with which England supplies China, it is said, at a profit of 300 per cent, and at an advantage to her revenue of nearly 10,000,000 pounds a year. In vain has the Chinese Government expostulated and endeavoured to put a stop to the importation; the war of I841, and the Treaty of Nanking alike have secured open rights to British traders, and although the Government at Peking has pronounced a penalty of death upon any Chinese subject who directly or indirectly traffics in the drug, ways and means are ever found to evade the enactment and to escape the punishment. It is asserted that the mandarin governor of Shang-Hai annually adds some thousands of pounds to the emoluments of his post, merely by shutting his eyes to the delinquencies of his subordinates.

It is only justice to record that neither Kin-Fo nor Wang ever yielded to the seductions of opium-smoking; not an ounce of the dangerous poison had ever found its way to the interior of the handsome dwelling at which within another hour the young man and his sage counsellor arrived.

"Better teach a nation than stupify them!" Wang would repeatedly say, and ignoring the Tai-ping principles of former days would add - "Commerce is all very well, but philosophy is better!""

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